


t-shirt you sleep in

by cursingcursive (queenradi)



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Pure Smut, Riding, also pining!morgan i guess, oblivious!morgan, season 5 era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4441541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenradi/pseuds/cursingcursive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid borrows something from Morgan and it leads to something that was going to happen no matter what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	t-shirt you sleep in

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be writing something else when I decided "you know what this world needs? moreid sex." and here we are :) 
> 
> inspired by [this post](http://parisintrview.tumblr.com/post/125130855895/u-didnt-ask-for-it-but-i-knew-you-needed-it) title taken from birdy's song "t-shirt"
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://triangleangel.tumblr.com/)

(-)

 

Morgan realizes, a bit too late, that he _really_ should have seen this coming.

 _Really_.

(-)

They’re in Alaska. _Alaska_. It’s about as fun as it sounds; it’s not winter, so the weather isn’t completely unbearable, but it’s still colder than a witch’s tit, as his grandmother used to say. There are collective groans and sighs and complaints when they step off the plane, and Morgan feels a little bad for Garcia. One of the rare times she comes with them on a case and it’s to Alaska. Poor girl.

It’s business as usual, though, for a good ten hours. The sheriff has them set up at the little, cozy inn, and it’s not that bad once the innkeeper gets the fireplace and heaters going.

Then she mentions that they only have so many rooms, and they’re going to have to double up, and Morgan really wishes he’d called in sick that morning. He doesn’t want to deal with any of this shit.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid,” he says incredulously.

“Hey!” Reid actually looks offended. He kind of feels bad. Kind of.

“Come on, Morgan,” Hotch scolds. “It’s late, we’re all tired, and you can suck it up.”

“Come on!” They’re teaming up against him. He can see Garcia smirking at him, the brat, like she thinks she knows exactly what’s going through his head.

She _doesn’t_. Whatever she thinks Morgan is thinking, she’s wrong.

“One night,” Hotch promises. He looks exhausted. Morgan decides not to argue.

“Fine,” he says begrudgingly. He throws a disdainful look towards Reid. “If you kick me or cuddle me or steal the blankets you’re sleeping out here.”

Reid raises his hands in surrender. “I’ll keep my limbs to myself, I promise.”

“Good.” Morgan glares at Garcia once for good measure and heads upstairs.

Alaska sucks.

(-)

Morgan gets upstairs just in time to see that Rossi and Hotch have claimed the last room with two twin beds. JJ is in the other one, Prentiss following quickly, and Morgan stands in the hallway for a second, staring at them all.

“You guys suck,” he says. Prentiss salutes him. JJ laughs. Hotch shakes his head and Rossi just kind of smirks at him.

The last two rooms both have one queen bed, and if it weren’t for Garcia he would crash on one of those and he wouldn’t even have to deal with Reid. But unfortunately, he cares for his best friend and her comfort, so he drags his bag into the room after Reid and grumbles the whole way through.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you hated me.” Reid smiles sheepishly at him. He’s toying with the zipper on his bag, and it doesn’t take a profiler to know that he’s worried Morgan is going to make him leave.

Well now he really does feel bad. “Sorry,” he mumbles. He unhooks his gun and his holster and dumps it on the bed. “Just a long day, and. Well.” He gestures to the bed as a whole, like that is going to explain the big, complicated mess of feelings and shit that he’s got wrapped up in his chest.

“Oh.” Reid still looks a little put out. “Do you want me to—?”

“Pretty boy, please can we just go to bed and wake up tomorrow morning and do our job?” Morgan groans. He really, _really_ wants that kicked-puppy look to go away. It’s hard to look at.

“Okay.” Reid does that thing with his mouth that isn’t quite pursing his lips and isn’t quite smiling. It’s better than what it was, and Morgan takes it for what it is.

They toe their shoes off and stow their weapons and badges away and move their bags from the bed, and then they start to undress. Morgan turns away instantly, and he sees that Reid does, too, and when he’s got his sweatpants on and is shrugging into his sleep shirt, he hears Reid swear.

“What?” Morgan asks. He turns around to look at him and then freezes.

In all the seven years that he’s known Reid he’s never seen much of him. Not really. Now he’s getting an eyeful of nearly everything he missed out on. A long, pale back dotted with freckles, a little pink from the cold, and little dimples just above the waistband of his sweats. Which are hanging really low on his hips. Morgan forcibly moves his eyes up to the back of Reid’s head.

Reid is rummaging frantically through his bag, still kind of swearing under his breath.

“What?” Morgan repeats. He finishes pulling his own shirt down over his chest and moves closer.

Reid stops rummaging and runs hand through his hair. He bites his lip. “It’s stupid,” he says quietly. He looks genuinely stressed out, and Morgan realizes quickly that something is missing, and that this something has never been missing, before.

“What’s wrong?” He puts a hand on Reid’s shoulder. His skin is freezing, and Morgan hates himself when his eyes dart down and see that Reid’s nipples are peaked. He mentally kicks himself and looks back to Reid’s face.

“It’s stupid,” Reid says again, “but there’s this shirt that I always sleep in, and it’s not in here. I must have left it in the wash or something but it’s not in here, and it’s really hard to sleep without it, and I’ll be cold and—” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Morgan murmurs. “It’s okay, we’ll only be here a couple of nights. You’ll be okay, alright?”

Reid laughs self-deprecatingly. “Sorry. I told you it was stupid.” He shakes his head and takes another deep breath. Morgan pretends not to notice how his hands are shaking.

“No, I get it.” Morgan ruffles his hair and moves back to his own bag. “It’s colder than fuck out there, and not much better in here. I wouldn’t want to sleep that exposed, either.” He dances around the fact that Reid obviously uses this shirt as a safety blanket, which is an indicator of PTSD. He figures Reid is already hyper-aware of this fact, and pointing it out would just be cruel.

“Here.” Morgan grabs a spare tshirt from his bag and tosses it to Reid.

He catches it, barely, and stares at Morgan with wide eyes. “You—”

“Just put it on and get in bed,” Morgan says. His voice has no bite. He sounds almost fond, even to himself. This is definitely one of the weirder nights he’s ever had. He pulls back the comforter on the bed and climbs in.

Reid unfolds the shirt carefully, like it’ll fall apart in his hands. Morgan watches him examine it; it’s nothing special, just a dark grey shirt that’s soft and worn from years of use. Reid pulls it on and Morgan’s mouth goes dry.

The shirt is huge. The collar was already stretched on Morgan, and on Reid it hangs low to expose his collarbones and threatens to fall off of one shoulder. He looks so small in it, and the image is further enhanced when Reid folds his arms over his chest and curls in on himself against the cold.

Morgan licks his lips.

This is ridiculous.

He’s been around Reid for seven years, and spent at least four of those years harboring this silly crush or whatever Garcia calls it, and there is no way he’s going to throw four years of hard work at concealing that crush down the drain. Just because Reid is wearing Morgan’s shirt doesn’t mean he has to lose his head.

And Reid climbing into bed next to him is not a good reason to freak out like he’s a teenager again.

Reid turning off the bedside lamp and wriggling under the covers and Morgan being able to feel his body next to his is _definitely_ not an excuse to jump headfirst in front of a metaphorical bus.

He takes a couple of steadying breaths and hopes Reid doesn’t notice. They’re facing away from each other, and there’s good foot of space between them. The situation isn’t ideal, but it’s bearable.

Sort of.

(-)

He’s half asleep when he feels it.

Reid is shaking so hard that the bed is fucking shaking with him. It’s a quiet, faint, rattle, only a slight jostling, but Morgan is a light sleeper and he doesn’t miss it. He can also hear the tiny chatter of Reid’s teeth and his little whimpers on every exhale.

It’s cold in the room, sure, but Morgan hadn’t realized that Reid was so cold- blooded. He thinks, delirious with sleep, that it’s kind of adorable.

He rolls over to face Reid. The poor kid is curled up on his side, face tucked down under the comforter, which is pulled up and wrapped tight around his body. He’s a shivering lump, and Morgan feels bad for him.

“Dude,” he whispers. Reid shakes harder but doesn’t otherwise move. “Reid,” Morgan says, louder.

Reid’s eyes peek up from under the comforter. “Y-yeah?” His face is pale and a tremor violently wracks through him.

“I think you’re cold.” Morgan finds himself scooting closer. Reid doesn’t move away.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. He doesn’t even sound like he’s convinced himself. He sure as hell hasn’t convinced Morgan. “Promise.” He burrows back under the blankets, leaving only his messy mop of hair sticking out.

Morgan glares at where he used to be. He doesn’t say anything, just moves his foot until it touches Reid’s. Then he jerks away instantly because, just as he’d expected, it’s _fucking freezing_. He reaches his hand out next, tugs the covers away and glares harder at Reid.

“If you keep shivering all night neither one of us is going to sleep.”

“I’ll turn the heat on.”

“It is on.”

Reid starts glaring back. “Then what do you want me to do? Are you going to cuddle me until I’m warm again?”

Morgan mentally cards through that sentence for a second, trying to find any indicators towards Reid being serious, and he finds that every word is dripping in Reid’s “test me” voice.

“Sure,” Morgan says. He’s daring Reid to refuse and admit defeat. He’s also daring him to accept and admit defeat. Either way, Morgan supposes that he’s winning. He rolls onto his back and splays his arms out a little bit, still looking at Reid. He can’t fight the smirk playing over his mouth.

“Are you serious?” Reid eyes him suspiciously. A shiver tears through him. His jaw clenches against the chattering of his teeth.

“Get over here, pretty boy, before I change my mind and leave you to freeze.”

An exasperated huff leaves him before he wiggles into Morgan’s arms. He tentatively rests his head on Morgan’s chest, his skinny arms tucking between their bodies. Morgan’s come to wrap around his back, and the difference in temperatures on their skin is stark.

Reid’s hair smells like some kind of unnamed fruit.

They’re quiet for a little while, and Reid isn’t shivering so badly. He keeps pulling the blankets tight around the two of them, and every time he moves Morgan tightens his arms slightly to discourage it. He’s tired and he wants to sleep, even if he’s got an armful of Dr. Spencer Reid and a couple of his wildest dreams are coming true.

Then Reid huffs out a heavy sigh and shifts again, and Morgan groans.

“Okay, seriously, why can’t you sleep?” he asks gruffly. He noses Reid’s hair to prompt an answer. “Dude. Come on, talk to me.”

Another slightly annoyed sigh. Reid shoves his face against Morgan’s chest. “I told you, it’s really hard for me to fall asleep without that shirt.” He sounds distressed. Morgan’s heart clenches a little, for him. “Sorry for keeping you up, I’ll just…” He starts to pull away, sitting up and gently pushing Morgan’s arms from around him.

“Hey, hey!” Morgan sits up, too, and grabs Reid’s arm. “Look at me.” Reid does, shyly. Morgan can only see the faint outline of him in the light coming in from the streetlamp outside the window. He doesn’t miss the sad downturn to his mouth, or the tired droop of his eyes.

Reid very clearly is exhausted, but he can’t fall asleep.

“What was special about the shirt?” he asks softly. Reid shakes his head and looks away. Morgan touches his cheek and makes him look back. “You might as well tell me, because as long as you’re awake I’m awake, and you know how I love my beauty rest.” A smile cracks Reid’s lips and Morgan considers it a win.

“It’s just…” Reid licks his lips. Morgan tries really hard to not be affected by it. “It belonged to someone special, and they gave it to me when I was… having trouble, and it just sort of. I don’t know.” He shrugs and then curls in on himself. He looks like he’s getting cold again. Morgan can see goosebumps on the skin that’s exposed by the loose collar of his shirt.

His shirt…

“It’s okay, Reid, we all need something.” Morgan forces himself to move his hand from Reid’s cheek, but he stops him and their eyes lock.

“Um.” Reid licks his lips again. His eyes are wide. “You know, studies have shown that, ah,” he smiles a little shakily, almost nervously, “that one of the best ways to relax is to have an orgasm.”

Morgan blinks at him. His heart stutters a couple of times. He consciously restarts his breathing. “Is that right?” he says finally. He can feel himself smirking, too.

Reid nods slowly. He’s not shivering. His hand on Morgan’s wrist, keeping them together, is actually kind of warm. Huh. “It’s also been proven,” Reid whispers, “that your pupils dilate when you’re aroused.”

Morgan chuckles. He’s heating up, too, but it has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. “That’s profiling 101, pretty boy.”

“Well I mentioned it because your pupils are quite large, right now.” They’re definitely a lot closer than they were before.

“Is that so?” Morgan leans in so that their noses almost touch. “Is this your way of telling me that you want me to tire you out?”

Reid swallows. Morgan watches the movement of his throat and echoes the action. “Yes.”

Okay, yeah, who needs inhibitions when he’s been waiting four years and the perfect opportunity has presented itself? Fuck inhibitions. They’ve only ever held him back, anyway.

They kiss slowly, at first, gently and softly, because Morgan is a little scared that Reid is going to freak out and run away any second now. To be honest, he’s a little scared that _he’s_ going to freak out and run away. Everything is happening at once and Morgan’s brain is short circuiting.

He cups Reid’s face and pulls him closer, leaning back until he’s against the headboard and Reid is climbing into his lap. Morgan licks into his mouth slowly and his head spins when Reid whimpers.

Reid tentatively touches Morgan’s chest while they kiss, their mouths moving against each other slowly and languidly, like they have all the time in the world instead of just a few hours.

Morgan smiles when Reid slides his cold hands up his shirt, lightly brushing his abs, touching the hot skin and making Morgan shiver. Reid sighs into his mouth and melts closer.

His hair is soft under Morgan’s hands. Morgan tugs on it to move Reid’s head the way he wants, and when he does Reid whimpers again.

He freezes almost immediately after, and Morgan pulls away to look at him. He’s blushing furiously. Morgan chuckles and rubs his hand down Reid’s side comfortingly.

“You alright, pretty boy?” he asks. He leans in and mouths hotly at Reid’s exposed collarbone. He moves the shirt, groaning quietly as he does because Reid looks _really fucking good_ in his clothing.

“I’m f-fine,” Reid gasps. He slides his arms around Morgan’s neck. His hips roll forward and they both groan when their half-hard cocks brush together. “Fuck,” Reid whispers. He takes a shuddery breath; Morgan grabs his hips and bites his neck to get him to do it again.

He does, rocking back down, and they both groan. Morgan drags his lips up Reid’s skin, just to hear his breath catch, and grins against his ear. “You warming up?” he asks, voice rough.

“I’m getting there,” Reid pants back. He smiles around a moan and kisses Morgan again. Their hips roll together, Morgan’s pushing up and Reid’s rocking down. Morgan can feel heat dripping down his spine and pooling in his stomach, and he’s fairly certain that sparks are coming from him fingers, sinking into Reid’s skin and driving his body closer.

Reid kisses like he’s dying. He grabs Morgan’s jaw and bites his lip and licks into his mouth and whines when they pull apart and breathes out little sighs and keeps _shoving closer_ , pushing Morgan back against the headboard.  

Morgan digs his fingers into Reid’s skin and keeps them pressed together with hardly any room to breathe. He’s starting to sweat and his cock is unbearably hard; part of his brain is just willing to grind on Reid until they’re both coming in their pants, but a bigger part of his brain really, really wants to fuck Reid.

He grabs Reid’s ass and squeezes, sucking on his bottom lip while he does. Reid groans loudly and his eyes shut tight, a heavy breath puffing over Morgan’s face.

“Fuck, fuck, _Morgan_ ,” Reid moans. His hips are moving faster and Morgan knows he’s getting desperate.

Desperate Reid is a sight to behold, so Morgan stops moving and sits back, watches with heavy-lidded eyes as Reid works himself over. He’s flushed from his cheeks all the way down past his collarbone, the color disappearing under Morgan’s shirt. He’s so beautiful, writhing on top of him with wide eyes and parted lips and messy hair.

He tells him that before he can stop himself.

“What?” Reid whines. He frowns. “You think I’m—”

Morgan squeezes his ass again and starts sucking on the other side of his neck. “You’re fucking gorgeous, pretty boy,” he groans. “So damn beautiful, moving on top of me, trying so hard to get yourself off.”

Reid whines. He pushes at Morgan’s shoulder until they can look at each other. Reid stops moving and touches Morgan’s jaw reverently. “I want…” He swallows. Morgan waits, already pretty sure he knows what Reid’s going to ask for. “I want you to fuck me.”

Of course he was right. No one knows this kid better than Morgan does.

He grins at him and nudges into his hand. “Yeah?” he asks, wanting to make sure.

Reid nods eagerly. “Yeah.” His eyes are huge. His mouth is bitten red and shining with spit. He’s ruffled and warm and Morgan never wants to leave this bed.

“Alright, baby,” Morgan says softly. “You got any stuff?”

The other man is scrambling off of him hardly a second after the question has left his mouth. Morgan watches, amused, as Reid digs through his bag. When he stands up he shyly kicks his sweatpants off, eyes locked on Morgan’s. The boxers underneath are quick to follow, and Morgan’s mouth goes dry. Reid’s cock is hard and pink and leaking precome, and Morgan wishes they had more time, because he would really not be opposed to sucking Reid off like his life depended on it.

“What about the shirt?” Morgan asks when Reid climbs back onto the bed.

“Can I keep it on?” he asks shyly. A condom and a small bottle of lube are deposited on the bed. Morgan doesn’t bother wondering why Reid had those in his go bag.

And anyway, his brain has kind of melted out of his ears at Reid’s cautious question. He doesn’t answer, just hauls Reid back into his lap and kisses him hard. He palms over Reid’s dick, stroking twice and dragging heavy groans out of Reid’s mouth before he pulls away and starts pulling his shirt off.

Reid helps and tosses the clothing away, then yanks Morgan’s pants and boxers down, as well. When the playing field feels more evened Reid dives back into the kiss, grinding their cocks together and making them both moan shamelessly.

“JJ and Prentiss have the room next to ours,” Reid reminds him, panting and kissing him sporadically.

“You telling me to be quiet?” Morgan smirks and grabs Reid’s ass, making him squeak loudly. “Sounds like you’re making all of the noise, kid.”

Reid glares at him but keeps moving against him. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

Morgan raises his eyebrows. “Bossy,” he mumbles, but he still reaches for the lube right away. He’s getting about as impatient as Reid, and something tells him they’re both going to come embarrassingly quickly.

He slicks up his fingers, kisses Reid quiet, and slowly pushes into his hole, his other hand rubbing at Reid’s hip. Reid pushes back onto his hand almost instantly, so Morgan skips any preamble and fucks in and out, adding another finger when Reid whines impatiently and bites at his mouth.

“Fuck me, please, please, Morgan fuck, _please_ ,” he chants, whispering and rocking his hips and scratching down Morgan’s shoulders.

Morgan groans into the spot under his jaw and grinds against him, the friction on their cocks and Morgan’s fingers working Reid open making them both groan, the noise bitten off because it would really suck if JJ and Prentiss found out about this the hard way.

“Hang on, baby…” Morgan soothes Reid with gentle kisses up his neck, down his jaw, against his lips. He pushes another finger into him and breathes in the moan that comes loose.

Reid is so tight and hot around just his fingers that his head spins when he thinks about fucking into him for real, about Reid sitting on his cock and riding him and making more of these pretty little noises. Morgan kisses him and strokes their tongues together, his fingers twisting inside Reid and stretching him. Reid’s wrapped a hand around both of their cocks, is stroking them slowly and just enough to keep Morgan hovering on the very edge. His chest is tightening with every second.

“Do it, do it, please, come on,” Reid urges.

“Alright, hang on.” Morgan chuckles at him to mask how shaky he suddenly is. He carefully pulls his fingers from Reid and reaches for the condom. His hands are trembling and when he breathes his lungs hitch.

He’s actually going to do this. He’s actually going to fuck his best friend, finally, after years of waiting and wishing it into existence and tiptoeing around the idea—

The condom is rolled on and his dick is slicked up and Reid is lifting himself up when A Thought suddenly occurs to Morgan. He grabs Reid by the hips and stalls him. Reid whines loudly, impatient.

“What?” he asks, breathless.

“The shirt,” Morgan says dumbly. A smile spreads over his mouth. “The shirt you lost, that you said a friend gave you.”

Reid looks scared.

Morgan thumbs over his bottom lip sweetly. “It was mine. I gave it to you and never got it back.”

Reid swallows. His trembling, not from the cold but from the way Morgan is making him wait.

“Am I right?” he presses.

“Yes,” Reid gasps. “Yes, _yes_ , you’re right, it’s your shirt, now will you _please please please_ fuck me?”

The words have barely left his mouth before Morgan kisses him roughly and pushes up into him. They both groan when Reid sinks down, Morgan screwing his eyes shut to the heat and tightness, Reid whining brokenly and moving his hips in tiny, careful circles.

“Fuck,” Morgan whispers. He wraps his arms around Reid’s waist and presses their chests together. “You’re fucking perfect baby, better than I imagined…” He kisses Reid, coaxes his arms around his shoulders. “So perfect…”

Reid lifts his hips up and slides back down, so slowly that Morgan’s eyes roll back into his head. It’s all too slow and too hot and perfect in every way; the way Reid fits in his lap, the noises he’s making, that he’s still wearing Morgan’s shirt…

He groans again when he realizes that this is what started it all. He gave Reid a shirt _two years ago_ and he still wears it at night, was going to wear it tonight, _in front of Morgan_ , while sleeping in the same bed as Morgan… He thinks that he probably would have jumped Reid if he recognized his own shirt.

This situation is kind of inevitable, he realizes. This lovely, absurd situation that involves Reid wearing his clothes and kissing him and riding his cock.

Which he is doing _fantastically_. The kid knows how to move his hips just right that the drag of Morgan’s cock inside him has them both groaning, makes Morgan bite his neck and palm his ass. He sinks down so slowly that his thighs shake and Morgan ends up snapping into him, making him gasp.

And then Reid rotates his hips just right when Morgan rocks upwards at the right time and suddenly Reid is clenching down on him, biting Morgan’s shoulder to stifle a small shriek.

Morgan smirks. “Did that feel good, baby?” he coos. He grabs Reid’s hips and rocks up into the same spot. Reid jerks forward and gasps, his cock rutting on Morgan’s abs, ass rocking back on his cock to recreate the action.

They move faster, more desperately. Morgan can feel his muscles coiling up with heat, all of his energy pooling at the base of his dick, his grip on Reid’s hips tightening with every thrust up. Reid keeps making wild little noises into Morgan’s skin, until finally he pulls back and Morgan gets a real look at him.

He blushing and flushed everywhere. His hair is ruined and sweaty and sticking to his forehead and face. His eyes are closed tight, mouth parted and red and shiny. He keeps one hand on the back of Morgan’s neck and braces the other behind him on his thigh. He moves faster on Morgan’s cock, rising and falling so quickly that Morgan’s head spins.

He grips Reid’s cock and reaches his other hand to tangle in Reid’s hair. They groan loudly, together, and Morgan strokes Reid in time with his movements inside him.

The shirt is clinging to Reid’s torso. Morgan keeps his eyes on Reid’s collarbone, where a fresh bruise is blooming, and he keeps thrusting, and pulling Reid off, and panting and groaning and then—

Reid rocks down and then he just sits in Morgan’s lap and _grinds_ , circling his hips and whimpering while he comes in stripes over Morgan’s hand. He’s gorgeous when he comes; his head falls way back, exposing his throat, and the muscles in his thighs and arms tremble.

He keeps grinding down, and Morgan snaps his hips up, gritting his teeth, chasing after the building pressure in his cock, the heat in his spine, the stars he sees when he smears Reid’s own come over his hip and anchors himself with that. He keeps fucking up to hear Reid mumble his name and try to move against him. He surges forward, pushes up into Reid’s body, kisses him hard on the mouth, pulls on his hair, comes so hard that he forgets to be quiet.

When he catches his breath Reid slumps against him, his face tucked into his neck and his arms resting limply on his shoulders. Morgan holds him back, fighting exhaustion to wrap his arms around Reid’s waist.

“You gonna fall asleep now, pretty boy?” he teases quietly. He presses his nose to Reid’s hair. Now it smells like sweat and sex.

“Mm hm,” Reid mumbles. “Right here. Not moving.”

Morgan chuckles. He moves his hips a little and they both wince, because he’s still inside Reid. “I may have just had a mind-blowing orgasm, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is kind of uncomfortable.” Morgan gently lifts Reid off of his softening dick.

Reid whines and scrambles to stay close. “I like having you in me,” he complains. His face is still shoved in Morgan’s neck, like he’s hiding.

Morgan pets his back a couple of times before slowly rolling them onto their sides. “Sleep,” he says sternly. He pries Reid’s arms from him and kisses his cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He leaves the bed, ignoring Reid’s irritated huffs, and goes to the bathroom.

Once the condom has been taken care of and he’s wiped Reid’s cum from his hands, Morgan brings a washcloth back into the room. He grins when he sees Reid, stretched out on the bed with half-lidded eyes, toying with the hem of Morgan’s shirt.

Morgan crawls onto the bed and wipes Reid off, then tosses the washcloth away. He draws Reid into his arms and pets his hair, not bothering with the comforter that was shoved down the bed a long time ago. They’re both warm enough, now.

“I got your shirt dirty,” Reid mumbles into his chest.

“Keep it,” Morgan mumbles back. His muscles and bones and his whole body are melting into the bed. Little tingles of warmth keeping washing over him, little pulses of happiness that seem to be originating from the body clinging to his.

“Thank you.” Reid’s hand fumbles around until it finds one of Morgan’s. He twists their fingers together and squeezes.

“No problem, baby.” Morgan yawns loudly and squeezes back. “Now go to sleep.”

Reid giggles tiredly, and then Morgan’s eyes close and he falls into sleep as easily as he fell into whatever he feels for this ridiculous man.

(-)

They wake up a little late, but Morgan still has time to notice that there’s a shirt sitting on a chair in their room that wasn’t there before. He points it out to Reid, who’s eyes go wide when he sees it.

“That’s the shirt!” he says. “That’s… That’s the shirt I lost.” He frowns. “I don’t understand.”

Morgan shakes his head. “Does it matter?” He grins at Reid and tosses the shirt at him. “You should start a collection, pretty boy.”

Reid blushes furiously and shoves the shirt into his bag. He’s grinning too, but he keeps trying to bite it back. Morgan is hopelessly endeared.

(-)

Downstairs, Garcia sidles up to Morgan and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. He eyes her warily.

“What?” he asks.

“Did you get my present?” She sips at her coffee, not taking her eyes from him.

“Your—?” Morgan blinks, realizing. “Did you steal Reid’s shirt.” It’s definitely not a question.

Garcia smirks. “Wasn’t his shirt, now, was it?” She saunters off in the direction of Prentiss and JJ. They both giggle when she comes over, and Morgan becomes acutely aware of the fact that it’s _really_ hard to have secrets, around these people.

 **  
**  
(-)


End file.
